Blood.
It was warm.
Too warm.
The first thing Anastasia Wen felt was the sticky warmth clinging to her fingers. Her eyes fluttered open, and all she could see was red smearing the white marble floor beneath her, trailing down her wrist like a cruel ribbon. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. Her legs had long since given out. The pain was no longer sharp; it was dull, fading like her heartbeat.
Then came the voices. Soft. Almost amused.
"Such a pity," a woman's voice cooed.
"She really thought we loved her," a man replied, laughter lurking beneath his words.
Anastasia tried to move, to speak, but her lips only trembled.
She recognized those voices.
Selena. Her best friend since med school.
And Victor Liang the man she'd planned to marry, trusted with her company, her career, her heart.
Her blood ran colder than the floor beneath her.
"She always was too noble," Selena sneered. "Too busy saving lives to realize we were cutting hers apart."
"She handed us everything on a silver platter," Victor added casually. "Hospital partnerships, clinical trials, investor confidence."
Selena clicked her tongue. "And now?"
"Now she's just a dead weight."
Their footsteps faded. The door clicked shut.
Darkness followed.
______
Suddenly, Anastasia gasped.
Air surged into her lungs like fire. She jolted upright, clawing at her chest. Her heart pounded, her body trembling but the pain, the blood, the betrayal gone.
She blinked.
She wasn't in the ICU.
She was in her old studio apartment above the public clinic in West City the one she lived in during her residency.
Her gaze darted to the calendar pinned to the wall.
April 4th. Five years ago.
A dull ringing filled her ears.
She stumbled to the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked younger. No burn-out, no eye bags from endless board meetings, no engagement ring.
No scar across her shoulder from the night they left her bleeding.
Anastasia gripped the sink.
She was back.
Somehow, impossibly she was back.
The day bled by in fragments.
She paced the cramped apartment, her mind racing. Every decision, every detail, every betrayal it was all ahead of her. Her company, BioNext Medical Solutions, hadn't yet taken off. The hospital board still admired her. Her colleagues still believed in her.
And Victor…
Victor was still pretending to love her.
Her phone rang.
Of course it did.
Victor Liang.
Her thumb hovered over the screen before she answered.
"Anastasia? There you are. I've been calling. You okay?"
His voice was still warm. Concerned. A lie.
"Fine," she said, voice flat.
"You left early from rounds this morning. Are you resting?"
She glanced out the window. "I needed time to think."
A pause. "You're not having doubts, are you?"
Oh, she was having more than doubts.
She was having revelations.
"No," she lied, smooth as silk. "Just tired."
"Well, don't forget dinner with the investors tonight. They're interested in the clinical tech we're co-developing."
Co-developing.
She nearly laughed.
He had stolen her protocols, filed secret patents under his name, then sold them off during their engagement. She remembered the lawsuits. The disbarment rumors. The media nightmare.
Not this time.
"Of course," she replied, then hung up before he could say more.
She stared at her reflection.
No more naivety.
This time, she'd protect her name, her research, and her future.
And she'd start with the contract that gave Victor any legal claim to her work.
Anastasia spent the afternoon digging through old files.
The co-development agreement signed in good faith was buried in her desk drawer. In the past, she'd handed Victor access to her prototypes, her trial patients, even her peer-reviewed study on regenerative cell coding.
She'd practically gift-wrapped the empire he stole.
But now she had time.
Now she had knowledge.
And now, she had leverage.
She picked up her phone and called Dr. Marcus Ren, her mentor and legal proxy in the early days.
"Stasia? What's wrong?"
"I need to reassign all intellectual property rights for Project Aegis under my sole name," she said.
"But Victor "
"No longer involved. Not in any capacity. Draft it today. File it tomorrow. And keep it sealed."
A long pause.
"...Understood."
That night, she wore her old white coat over navy slacks and walked into the investor dinner like a general entering hostile territory.
The restaurant was upscale, dimly lit, too expensive for interns but perfect for future betrayals.
Victor greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. She turned slightly so it grazed air.
His brows twitched.
"You look... serious," he said, pulling her chair.
"It's a serious night."
Across the table sat two men and one woman, all in suits, all watching her. She remembered them: the initial investors who had backed her biotech research but slowly turned on her under Victor and Selena's manipulations.
"Dr. Wen," one said, smiling. "Victor's told us wonderful things about your work."
Anastasia smiled, polite and unreadable.
"Then he didn't tell you the half of it."
Victor chuckled. "Stasia tends to be humble. But I think "
"Actually," she interrupted, "I'd like to clarify. Project Aegis is a solo initiative. All clinical data, test results, and future developments fall solely under my name."
Victor stiffened. "What are you "
She met his gaze calmly. "I filed the paperwork today. Effective immediately."
The investors exchanged looks.
"This isn't what we understood, Dr. Wen," the woman said.
"Then it's time you understand the truth," Anastasia replied. "I appreciate your interest, but I won't move forward with partners who can't distinguish my work from his."
Victor's jaw clenched. "You're making a scene."
"No, Victor," she said. "I'm reclaiming my narrative."
She stood.
"Thank you for dinner. I have patients to attend to."
And with that, she walked out, head high, coat billowing behind her like a flag.
Not of surrender.
But of war.